


when you make out with your best friend

by triforced



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, dumb boys, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforced/pseuds/triforced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a shift that occurs when you go from best friends to best friends who occasionally make out with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you make out with your best friend

There's a shift that occurs when you go from best friends to best friends who occasionally make out with each other.

Tsukishima likes to pretend the makouts are occasional, anyway. There's another name for it if you wind up making out every single time you're alone together, which is exactly what happens, but hey. Semantics. (Plus, he can think of at least...two times when expectations were subverted by parental meddling, which is more than enough to prove his mindset correct.) Yamaguchi is his best friend and occasionally they make out with each other. Period, end of story, good night.

The shift is gradual.

It comes on during class, while the teacher goes over math problems on the blackboard, and instead of following along in the textbook, Tsukishima cuts his eyes in Yamaguchi's direction, studies first his hands, then his black-clad torso and up further still, to his chin, his mouth, the freckles dusted along his cheeks. Though it's a matter of seconds before he looks away again, Tsukishima is annoyed with himself regardless. Small glances like those are a gateway drug, as far as he's concerned, and he's supposed to have more willpower than this.

It comes on during practice, when Tsukishima feels the blunted urge to show off a little, land blocks that rival Hinata and Kageyama's freak quick, because he knows Yamaguchi is watching him. (That's the thing; even when he's focused on a task, when he's practicing his serves, Yamaguchi is always aware of Tsukishima to some degree or another, and he sees everything important.) There is actual effort involved in quashing the urge, which he is not accustomed to. At all.

It comes on at night, as he tries to fall asleep, wondering if he's going to have another dream where he wakes up to messy sheets. He's had too many dreams like that, has washed his sheets on the down low far too often for his liking. Though part of him has to think, does Yamaguchi dream the same kinds of dreams, about him? Does Yamaguchi wake up, breathing heavily, and want to make an even bigger mess now that he's conscious, now that he can touch himself with his head full of thoughts he has no other outlet for? Does he gnaw on his knuckle when he comes all over his hand? Because Tsukishima does.

But he only makes out with his best friend occasionally, so. This too shall pass.

Except it doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

"Why are you always so - squirmy?" Tsukishima says, exasperated, Yamaguchi's hands halfway up his shirt. Where they should not be but are anyway, in defiance of Tsukishima's attempt to get through this study session with all of his mental faculties intact. His brain is in his head, not in his lap - with Yamaguchi, who seems quite comfortable there.

Yamaguchi meets his implacable stare with a thoughtful one. "Do I squirm?"

What kind of question is that even. He needs a bucket of sand to bury his face in.

"Don't move your hips around so much, it's distracting."

"Huh? You mean, like this?" Yamaguchi shifts heavily, rearranges his legs, and Tsukishima draws in a sharp breath. There is no possible way Yamaguchi can mistake the...activity going on down there, now, no way he can't know.

"Didn't I just tell you to knock it off?" Tsukishima says evenly, his eyes wide, and proceeds to dump Yamaguchi from his lap. Acting fast, he grabs a blanket and wraps himself up in it, shielding his lower half. "Stay over there, you freak."

From his heap on the floor, Yamaguchi has the gall to laugh, like he did something hilarious. Oh yes. Ha ha. Funny. He rolls onto his back, grabs the novel they've been assigned for class, starts to read. But not before he glances over, grinning, and says, "You look cute, Tsukki."

"Shut _up_ , Yamaguchi."

More laughter.

They do not make out for the rest of the day, as Tsukishima remains within his blanket cocoon for his own sanity (and safety), though at one point Yamaguchi falls asleep with the novel open on his chest and Tsukishima is tempted to kiss him awake. He puts the kibosh on that line of thought when he remembers why he's in the blanket to begin with.

What the hell is he going to do when he can't shove Yamaguchi away? What the hell is he going to do when he doesn't want to?

***  
It's bad.

The best friends who occasionally make out label doesn't fit them anymore, and Tsukishima can't pretend that it does, either.

He thinks about Yamaguchi all the time. In class, during lunch, after school, at practice, at home, in bed. He thinks about Yamaguchi's freckles, he thinks about his mouth, he thinks about his hands (Yamaguchi has nice hands), then he thinks about what those hands might do if they traveled south of the border, so to speak, he imagines Yamaguchi's fingers in place of his own, and it spooks him almost as much as it makes him unbearably hard. His internal debate becomes, am I in the mood to change my pants today, or do I ignore it altogether and just deal with the residual effects, like frustration.

Mounting frustration.

Unfortunately, his attitude suffers and he's a lot snippier than normal, has less patience for Hinata's antics, for Kageyama's stilted attempts to act less like the king of the castle (he knows this is an unfair thought, Kageyama's surprised even him, but Tsukishima is a contrary sort of person by nature), for Tanaka and Nishinoya's exuberance, to the point where Yamaguchi tows him out behind the gym one day and asks him what, exactly, is going on. Rather than provide a spoken answer, Tsukishima does something crazy, presses Yamaguchi up against the wall and kisses him.

It's a short kiss, but it's thorough, and Yamaguchi looks dazed when Tsukishima pulls away.

"I cannot believe you just did that," he says.

"Neither can I."

Which is the truth. He's out of control. He's stuck in a sneaky spiral of how did my life get so strange all of a sudden, and why can't I put the breaks on. Maybe he needs to visit a temple and leave a substantial offering, because he could use all the help he can get.

Nobody ever says they fall soft. It's always a hard fall, a tumble, a crash.

He's crashed right into this thing, full speed.

***

The next few times they study together, Tsukishima leaves his door open.

Yamaguchi acts like it doesn't bother him, like he isn't a tiny bit hurt by the implication, but Tsukishima knows better. They've been friends longer than...whatever it is they are now, and Yamaguchi's never been good at hiding his feelings.

The lid blows off eventually; Tsukishima hoped for later rather than sooner but of course that's not what happens in the shitstorm that is his life.

"Are you mad at me?"

Tsukishima's hand pauses for a beat, midsentence. He doesn't look up when he says, "Sure. Furious."

Yamaguchi lets his breath out in an irritated huff. "Tsukki."

"I'm gonna get mad if you don't let me finish my paper in peace."

"Tsukki," Yamaguchi repeats, the irritation ratcheted up a notch.

Tsukishima understands he shouldn't poke the bear, but he does anyway. " _What_."

"Look at me, damn it!"

His head snaps up automatically. Yamaguchi stares at him with an intensity he's seen once before, not long ago. "What," he says, in a neutral tone.

"Why is the door open?" Yamaguchi scoots forward, drawing closer to him so he can speak in a heated whisper. "Did I do something wrong? I mean...you're the one who kissed me at school, so I thought...I don't know. I don't know what to think. But if I did something wrong, you need to -"

"You didn't," Tsukishima hisses back, gripping his pencil so hard he's half expecting it to break. "You didn't, okay?" What he needs is for Yamaguchi to let this go, immediately.

Fat chance.

"I don't understand." Yamaguchi leans in further. "I'm trying to, but I don't." He puts his hand on top of Tsukishima's clenched one. It's warm. It's so warm. "Just tell me. Why is the door - "

"Because I want you to touch me!" The words are out before Tsukishima can stuff them back in. The air is charged with them. He wishes the floor would open and swallow him up. He scrubs shaky fingers through his hair, wondering what kind of expression he has on. Sick? Horrified? Blank? Probably blank. "Because I want you to touch me. Okay? Satisfied?"

Yamaguchi closes his mouth; it'd been hanging open. As if he senses what his proximity is doing to Tsukishima at the moment, he removes his hand, scoots back so that there's a comfortable distance between them again. At least Tsukishima doesn't have to explain what kind of touching he meant; Yamaguchi figured it out, if his blush is anything to go by.

The rest of the evening passes in a quiet blur. They don't say another word to each other. That night, when he can't fall asleep, Tsukishima goes outside and bounces his brother's old volleyball off the backboard of the basketball hoop, which he hasn't done in years.

There's a text on his phone when he goes back inside.

_We're studying at my house next weekend._

***  
Tsukishima should've turned him down.

The house is empty, save the two of them. About halfway through their study session, Yamaguchi's family left, saying they'd be gone for the evening and the boys could use the kitchen to fix dinner. Yamaguchi knew this already. He knew last week, when he sent the text.

He invited Tsukishima over to his empty house, where they would be alone with each other, no chance of interruptions.

Tsukishima should've turned him down.

But it's too late now. Yamaguchi is already in his lap, hands pushed up under his shirt, nuzzling his nose against the side of Tsukishima's neck, making him shiver, making him tilt his head out of the way, so Yamaguchi can kiss more of his skin. His own hands are on Yamaguchi's hips, loosely. His breaths are shallow yet even, which takes concentration. Effort. A lot of it. Soon, he'll run out, he'll grow tired, and then -

And then -

And then one of Yamaguchi's hands wanders its way on down, until it's in Tsukishima's lap with them, until it rests right against the part of him that is most prominent, that stands at attention while seeking attention, and Tsukishima's grip tightens on Yamaguchi's hips involuntarily. He bites the inside of his cheek and he thinks, Holy shit. And he thinks, I want I want I want -

Yamaguchi draws his face back. "Let me," he whispers, then ducks his head, shy all of a sudden. "Let me - touch you. I want to."

The dam breaks, he's wound up so tight. Weeks of dreams and repression and frustration bust out of him and it's all Tsukishima can do to get his hands in Yamaguchi's hair, yank his head up, crush their open mouths together, his own form of assent.

The hand in his lap begins to move, tentative at first, fingertips lightly brushing up against the clothed length of him, then Yamaguchi curls his fingers in, presses down with his palm. "Okay?" he says against Tsukishima's lips.

"Mm."

He's glad his mouth is otherwise occupied, because he's afraid of what would come out of it if it weren't. When Yamaguchi pulls back altogether, he's a hair's breadth from whimpering, and then he'd really wish he could die. Yamaguchi is flushed as their eyes meet. At some point, his hand had moved up, to the button of Tsukishima's fly. His other hand joins it there, fingers slowly working the button open. Tsukishima looks down, then back up at Yamaguchi, flushed himself.

"Can I - ?"

Well.

"Y- " No, he is not going to be one of those stuttering idiots during his first sexual experience with another person. With Yamaguchi. He's not gonna do it. Try again. "Yeah."

Much better.

Yamaguchi licks his lips, sucks the bottom one between his teeth (oh. God.) and draws Tsukishima's zipper down. A long moment fraught with terrible anticipation later, his eyes flick to Tsukishima's once more for permission (he gives it with an almost imperceptible nod), then they focus on his crotch, which would be embarrassing if he weren't completely given over by the need to be touched. Another, brief, pause and Yamaguchi slides his hand beneath the waistband of Tsukishima's boxers.

The reaction is instantaneous - Tsukishima swears he sees stars and his head falls back against Yamaguchi's bed and he grinds his teeth, though not before a tiny little noise slips out, which makes Yamaguchi grin. Concentration. Remember, concentration? Let's get back to that. Breathe, you dumbass, Yamaguchi hasn't even moved his hand yet - but he explores with his fingers, puts them everywhere and Tsukishima doesn't know which way is up anymore, his world has narrowed to this room and Yamaguchi and what Yamaguchi is doing to him. His eyes flutter shut, his hands clutching at Yamaguchi's hips.

He opens his eyes impossibly wide as soon as Yamaguchi tugs his boxers down to free him and those fingers close around his dick. This is nothing like the dreams, this is nothing like jerking himself off. You wouldn't think somebody else's hand would feel so different, but it does. Yamaguchi is clumsy and unskilled and has no idea what he's doing, except what he lacks he makes up for with enthusiasm. The inside of Tsukishima's cheek is going to be raw.

"Tsukki...you're so quiet," Yamaguchi says, his voice high and breathy. "Does it...does it feel good?"

He'd rather not answer, but Yamaguchi looks so open and earnest that he has to. "It feels - " And then Yamaguchi does something with this thumb, and Tsukishima can't hold back the needy sound that tears out of him. Bolstered, Yamaguchi does the thumb swipe again, and again, but this time he presses down. Without any warning, Tsukishima comes all over Yamaguchi's hand. For someone accused of being quiet, he makes a lot of noise.

Yamaguchi makes even more, when it's his turn, his head thrown back, his mouth open, his hands in Tsukishima's hair, tugging, insistent. He doesn't last long (not that Tsukishima did, either). Regardless, Tsukishima knows what his dreams will look like for a while, and he knows what they'll sound like, too.

***  
There's a shift that occurs when you go from best friends to best friends who start to explore what else your relationship could entail.

Just don't put a label on it; labels become obsolete pretty fast.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my name is Ashley and I've sold my soul to Haikyu!! Please send help. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed. <3


End file.
